
diss ^^S'^bZ'l 



CopjTighiN' 



I q ] 4 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



-^Sp 0vut jFallDto jBorton 



A SISTER OF THE WIND AND OTHER 
POEMS. 

LITTLE GRAY SONGS FROM ST. 
JOSEPH'S. 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

BOSTON AND NEW YORK 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 
AND OTHER POEMS 



THE 

SISTER OF THE WIND 

AND OTHER POEMS 

BY 

GRACE FALLOW NORTON 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

(Ct)e 0itierjSitie ^vt^^ Cambridge 

I9H 






1^ 



lA- 



COPYRIGHT, I9I4, BY GRACE FALLOW NORTON 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



Published Jtaie 1Q14 



m Id Idi4 

©CLA3X4477 



To 

Our Mother of Much Understanding 



Out of my hours of idleness 

I wove my g ft for you^ 
And what it is^ is all I am : 

It is not what I do. 

For deeds would be but swords at lasty 
Wherewith these hands ^ set free ^ 

Should hew new pathways unto that 
Same thing myself would be, 

(Tet easier Uwere to give the deedy 
Blindly y and thus have done^ 

Than from blank spaces of the sky 
To attempt your fitting crown.) 

Out of my hours of idleness 

And out of silence grew 
This gift of me that now I give y 

With all my hearty to you. 



NOTE 

For permission to reprint certain of these poems 
thanks are due to the editors of the Atlantic Monthly, 
the Century Magazine, Harper" s Monthly Magazine, 
Scrihncr s Magazine, McClure'^s Magazine, Poetry, 
the Poetry Journal, and Mother Earth. 



ON THE HILL 

To Faeriel 



The red upon the hill 
Taketh away my will, 

Emily Dickinson. 



Measure me not by thy sorrouus rod^ 
Gauge me not by the rod of thy grief. 
Loveliness goeth not sorrow-shod^ 
Though she be clad in the fallen leaf 

Stay me not in thy lanes of love ^ 
Bind me not in thy heart's lone haunt. 
Loveliness wander eth \ from every grove 
Soundeth her cymbal and riseth her chaunt. 

Tell me not : " If thou hope we hear^ 
But shouldst thou despair we will turn aside. 
Loveliness knoweth and kneeleth near 
Pain and despair and peace and pride. 

What was thy joy ? I never knew. 
What was thy hope but my hope's hell 
Tet have I joyed when thy song rang true^ 
Loving its loveliness all too well. 
3 



Other my fire than thy altar-fire — 
O and my far may be near to thee : 
Tet — hold me not to thy heart* s desire 
Ask but if Loveliness walk with me. 



OF SONGS 

Of songs I can make four kinds : 

Songs of the corn and the crows in the air, 
Of the hill and of two wandering there, 
With dew and with darkness upon their 
hair; 
And still songs about minds. 

And my Thought who seems so strange 

and so old. 
So cruel often and so cold. 
But who weaves with radiant rose and 
gold; 
And songs of the Joy that binds 
All joys and is as a smiling Face 
Out of faces, 'mid desperate places a Place, 
All-good, All-graciousness, All-grace! 
And songs of the enchanted winds 

And the souls of the shining sorrowful stars 
5 



ON THE HILL 



And night's pale Queen and the red god 
Mars, 

Of their hates and their woes and their ter- 
rible wars. 

(Proud planets, they pass in their cloudy 

cars. 
And I sing them, beating my prison-bars. 
It is night, it is night, when I sing the 

stars !) 



REBIRTH 

When I went out to the meadow. 
When I went over the hill, 

The whole world was a-waiting 
My coming to fulfill. 

The whole world was a-waiting 
To sing its song for me. 

To make for me its color — 
The earth, the sky, the sea. 

I knew not that my going 
Was such a wondrous thing, 

Till I came unto the meadow 
And the world began to sing. 

It sang: "To-day and ever 
Your soul 's another hue, 
7 



ON THE HILL 



Because of the purple shadows 
And because the sky is blue; 

" O you are changed forever — 
Bred in the blood of you 
Are beach and billow and shallow 
And green and gold and blue; 

" Forever and forever 

Because of the ancient hill, 
And the motion and the music 

And the moments when all is still." 

And I have taken the purple, 
The green and the sunny gold. 

And the long, long years of the old hill, 
Although I am not old ; 

And I have taken the sea-swing, 
(Though who can carry a wave ?) 



ON THE HILL 



And I have taken the sea-song, 
I shall sing it in my grave. 

Encarnadined, incarnate, 
Bred in the blood of me — 

And I am one forever 

With the earth and sky and sea. 



INVOCATION 

O SUN, slow-sinking, hail ! 

O western coverts, hail ! 

O wind, my brother, and earth, my mother, 

Hail and hail and all hail ! 

O silent forest, hail! 

sighing billow, hail ! 

And hail, fair-bodied moon, my goddess ! 

1 cry to thee. Lift thy veil ! 

See^ I stand before thee with my lyre. 

Strike^ strike the chords with thy white fire 

And cast thy spell upon my song — 

O Sovereign^ I have waited long I 

O part thy veil^ pour out the strong 

IVines of thy beauty^ for I dare 

To drink ; thy effulgence I would wear ; 



ON THE HILL 



Thy light ^ thy fi'ight I would translate 

Into rare tones reverberate. 

O Swayer of Tides^ Enchantress^ ^ueen — 

/ lift my lyre ! From Heaven lean 

dnd break the strings^ if so it be 

Thy suppliant have no part in thee ! 



"AND I'M BUT A FLAME AND A 
SHADOW " 

Real, real, real — 

My hands in the meadow-grass, 

Insensate, a sea of green. 

Where the unthinking wind doth pass. 

Real, real — gray wings 

Sweep over my sea of green ; 

O wild gull, though thou livest, 

Thou know'st not what life must mean. 

Real — O green meadow. 
Warm-bosomed, heavy, still . . . 
And I 'm but a flame and a shadow 
That passeth over the hill 



A PRAYER 

I TOO would pray : 
O King of Day, 
O Queen of Night, 
Send forth thy heralds, pale princes and 
angels burning bright ! 
Bid them bring me my desire. 
Bid them yield me my delight. 
I would have a lotus of fire 
And a lily of light ! 
A flower of noon 
And a flower of the moon. 
A flower of flame and fire 
And a blossom white. 
Bid them come now, crying and singing, 
bearing my boon ! 
For I would have a lotus of fire 
And a lily of light ! 

13 



MIST- MAD 

It was because the mist had come, 

I must arise and go 
From out the arms that are my home, 

Mist-summoned, startled, slow. 

It was because the mist had come 

That I arose and sighed. 
Gathered my garments white as foam 

And drew the still door wide. 

And passed as silent as all hours 

That through all nights have flowed. 

Dream-whiter than the white lace-flowers 
That dream beside the road. 

(Yea, silent as the hours that pass 
Slow-footed ere the light, 
14 



ON THE HILL 15 

I trailed my mantle o'er the grass 
And floated through the night.) 

My white feet moved within the dusk, 

I drifted down the vale. 
(O follow not, O never ask 

What made the night-owl wail !) 

Within mist-spaces, like black towers 

The sudden trees did loom; 
Then white mist closed, as close white doors, 

Sudden 'twixt room and room. 

(O follow not, O ask me not, 

Nor mark too close the tale ; 
Suffice it that all eyes were shut 

And mist-bound all the vale.) 

Mist-mad I held my white hands up 
To catch the faint moon-glow ; 



i6 ON THE HILL 

Mist-mad I clove my hands' white cup 
And swayed me to and fro. 

Mist-mad within a moon-shot mist^ 
Mist-mad in moon-white shoon, 

I tore my veil, my hair I kissed, 
I bowed before the moon. 

I turned me, turned me, round and round, 
And O, the spell pressed sore. 

But O, at last the word I found. 
And turned me round no more. 

I called unto the veiled moon, 

I hailed the hidden stars. 
And tears I begged them for a boon. 

Chilled on the cold moon-bars. 

Yea, tears I begged them they would give. 
My panting breath to free — 

That I might weep, that I might live — 
If they would succor me. 



ON THE HILL 17 

Methought they sighed, the silver stars, 
Methought the moon's faint sigh 

Was blown across her white altars 
To answer my lone cry. 

For tears, gray tears they gave at last, 

To ease the fearful spell. 
And ere my mad mist-dance was past 

I had wept deep and well. 

(O follow not, O ask me not, 

Nor mark too close the tale ; 
Suffice it that a wind was wrought 

And rain fell through the vale.) 

I left my lover's arms, mist-drawn ; 

Long hours I was away ; 
The tears I brought him at the dawn 

Were still and chill and gray. 



THE SUN-WORSHIPER 

Doth the world wear the West 
For a jewel on her breast, 
When she waits, when she waits. 
At the great iron gates ? 

my lover ^ O my lover ^ 

1 have hastened Heaven over^ 
And my fiying feet have found no other rest. 

Doth the world wear the East 
For a robe to the feast, 
When she goes, when she goes, 
All in opal and in rose? 

my lover ^ O my lover ^ 

1 have hunted Heaven over^ 

And my longing and my sighs have never ceased. 



ON THE HILL 19 

Doth the world lift the South, 
Silver chalice, to her mouth, 
When she lies, when she lies, 
'Neath his azure ardent eyes ? 

?ny lover ^ O my lover^ 

1 have harried Heaven over^ 

And there is no other cup for my heart's drouth. 

O white pearl of the North, 
Will the world know thy worth. 
On the day, on the day. 
When he turns away? 

my lover ^ O my lover ^ 

1 have hunted Heaven over^ 

And again your cruel hounds would drive me 
forth ! , 



MALERUDE 

My love hath bade me bring a wave 
To cover her bright body bare, 

All purfled, fringed, and Tyrian-tinged, 
Fine as she is and fair : 

This is the cloak that she would have 
Beneath the torrent of her hair. 

I brought my love a beryl-stone, 

A jacinth and a chrysolite. 
Got from a sage of hoary age 

Who cursed all beauty's might, 
(Nothing he had to call his own ; 

I too weep often in the night.) 

I brought my love a heart-sweet song 

That passed me in the Wishing Wood j 
For when a bird flew west I heard 
20 



ON THE HILL 



The song fly east and stood 
Upon the eastern borders long, 
To snare the song for Malerude. 

She laughed, the Scornful ! So I go 

With net and spear, with snare and lure, 

To bring the wave she longs to have ; 
I '11 spear it swift and sure 

When foam about the rim doth show, 
Pure as her lips are vain and pure. 

I '11 take it when an opal flush 
Fills all the hollow and the frail 

Green reeds that bend above it blend 
With cloud and crescent pale; 

I '11 lift it in a holy hush — 

Thinking on that which it shall veil. 

The little moon for broidery, 

For clasp two stars of faintest gold. 



22 ON THE HILL 

O for her hair to weave my snare, 
O golden fold on fold ! 

O for a wave to cover me — 
She is so cruel and so cold. 



WEB ON THE LOOM 

A Hill -Prayer 

I LIE still and dumb 

On the naked earth ; 
It is enough to come 
Where all things have their birth. 

It is enough to lie, 

Web on the loom ; 
Weave, O Mother, I sigh. 
Where my torn threads leave room. 

Dumb I am and still 

On the bare brown breast 

Of the deep-browed fecund hill. 
Where soon the sun will rest. 

It is enough, O sun, 
To feel you pass, 



24 ONTHEHILL 

To hear the singing one, 

The wind, move over the grass. 

It is enough to know- 
That there is light. 

That the green fields below 
Passive await my sight : 

Blind on her breast to thrill 

'Neath sound and scent 
And silence of the hill. 

My heart with the hill-heart blent. 

Mother, heavy I lie, 

Web of thy womb. 
Weave more life, I cry. 

Ere thou yieldest me shroud and tomb. 



THE GREEN CANOE 

When I come to visit you 
In my little green canoe, 
O'er the waters lilting, tilting. 
Trailing lilies, fair, unwilting. 
Splashing, laughing, swinging 
Lazy paddle, singing 
Sweet, to you : 

On your shore I '11 find all spread 
A feast of fruit and faery bread — 
Kiss the cup you bring, love, flinging 
^ Round your shoulders, ever singing, 
All my lilies, looping 
Loose buds on your drooping 
Lily head. 

This my song shall be : 

O I am the spirit of a tree 
And my sister is the spirit of the sea. 
25 



26 ON THE HILL 

{^Green canoe *s the very tree^ 
Kissing all day long the sea.) 
Look into my eyes^ there be 
Rhythm^ height^ and mystery 
Of the tree^ of the tree ; 
Rhythm^ depth^ and mystery 
Of the sea. 

When you know my song all through, 
Then farewell, farewell to you. 
My white love, I mind the calling 
Of the silver sweet enthralling 
Singing sea, where daintily 
Flits the far-off faintly 
Green canoe. 



ISLAND SONG 

From my isle to thy isle 
'Tis such a little way^ 
Across the twinkling waters 
Of our merry little hay. 

Thy pretty crescent island, leaf-gay by day I see, 
At eve, mist-shimmering, silvery-gray, from 
out my balcony. 

Where lone long nights I dream that a sum- 
mons comes at dawn. 

And springing from my hammock see the first 
green on thy lawn. 

Ah, should there be a waving from thy wee 

tower white, 
I 'd leap into my moth-wing'd boat and flit to 

thee to-night ! 

»7 



ON THE HILL 



Alas ! From out thy turrets no signal bright I 

see : 
Here still I roam a stranger and but dream my 

way to thee. 

From this isle to thy isle 
^T were such a little way^ 
Across the moonlit waters 
Of the honny little hay. 



ON THE DAY THE SUN LIES DEAD 

On the day the Sun lies dead 
Who shall clasp his golden head ? 
Who shall plain and who shall moan 
For his empire overthrown ? 

He that spun us, one by one, 
Lifted, loosed us — our lord Sun — 
Who shall heap his towering pyre, 
Faithful to his gift of fire ? 

Shining warrior, he must lie 
Loveless, unwept, in the sky, 
All his host of stars around. 
Dead upon heaven's battle-ground. 

Yea, this anguish he must taste : 
Paling, he must watch us waste ; 
Failing, hear us curse his reign, 
Innocent among his slain ! 
29 



30 ON THE HILL 

Nay, but One, who bore his light, 
Treading pallid, night by night, 
Where his burning footsteps led — 
On the day the Sun lies dead 

May not She, queen-slave of hope, 
Through the twilight to him grope, 
Know at last her heart's desire. 
Leaping, faithful, on his pyre? 

Ah, vain thought ! Her thralldom ends 
When at last her white bow bends 
And devoid of light her quiver — 
When her hope is gone forever. 

On the day the Sun lies dead 
None shall clasp his golden head. 
None shall weep and none shall moan : 
He must lie alone, alone. 



AT SUNSET 

The West is burning and our hearts catch 

fire! 
Lo, with bowed head, in awe before the pyre 
Of all day's dreams, I dare my dreams un- 
read. 

O august sacrifice ! Driven to thy flame 
Was it a thousand bulls of heaven that came. 
When the white day by night's first shaft lay 
dead ? 

Or hath Heaven's Rose, at last — too late — 

unfurled 
The petals of her passion o'er the world. 
The purple and the amber and the red ! 



31 



THE SILVER RIVER 

Farewell, I said, sweet meadow-grass. 
Farewell I let the light wind pass. 
I watch the shadows, one by one ; 
Farewell, thou gold slow-setting sun. 

I go within and fold my hands. 
O wondrous are the day's bright lands 
And evening's robe with roseate hem, 
But dearer now my dreams of them. 

The stars I know creep to the sky; 
The m.oon will soon be swimming high; 
O light-filled pools and silver streams ! 
O silver river of my dreams. 



FLAMES 

To Louisa Mendoza 



. . . O Venus^ deesse ! 
ye regrette les temps de F antique jeunesse. 



Arthur Rimbaud. 



/ walled me y ester even with ind'iffereyice. 

But still the flames broke free — 

/ dreamed of thee. 

My wild heart leaped and laughed^ thou dear 

Thou fair and dear — 

To find the red flame still so near^ 

The white flame so intense,^ 

To which my life does reverence. 

My wild heart leaped and laughed. I strove 

To reach thee^ love^ 

To seize the flame 

And wreathe a garland for thy name. 



35 



THE DANCER 

There 's a shining in the Northlands 

Because my lover is there ; 
It comes from his brow, the heart in his 
breast, 

And from his sun-gold hair. 
I am dancing alone in the Southland 

Because he is so fair. 

When he sailed unto those countries. 

Intolerable on their night 
Fell the flaming of the leaping 

Of his white galley-light : 
They knew not in the Northlands 

That aught could shine so bright. 

And I, nard-scented, silken, 
By tropic-fever tossed, 

37 



38 FLAMES 



Lay burning, ever burning, 

Though I was bound in frost ; 

For I, ere he had found me. 

Though lordly lodged, was lost. 

And O, I was anhungered. 

And O, they brought me food. 

Gold were our fields, yet famine 
Raged ever in my blood. 

He lived, he shone ! I lived not 
Till I knew his kinglihood. 

And now I dance in the darkness 

And in the still noon air; 
I dance in a dream at midnight 

With a jewel in my hair; 
My sandals crush the almond-blooms 

Because he is so fair ! 



LOVE IS A TERRIBLE THING 

I WENT out to the farthest meadow, 
I lay down in the deepest shadow; 

And I said unto the earth, " Hold me," 
And unto the night, " O enfold me," 

And unto the wind petulantly 

I cried, " You know not for you are free ! " 

And I begged the little leaves to lean 
Low and together for a safe screen ; 

Then to the stars I told my tale: 

"That is my home-light, there in the vale, 

" And O, I know that I shall return, 
But let me lie first mid the unfeeling fern, 
39 



40 FLAMES 



*' For there is a flame that has blown too near, 
And there is a name that has grown too dear, 
And there is a fear '* . . . 

And to the still hills and cool earth and far sky 

I made moan, 
" The heart in my bosom is not my own ! 

" O would I were free as the wind on wing ; 
Love is a terrible thing ! '* 



THE HEART-SONG OF JACINTA 

Part of my heart goes wailing down 

As a ship goes down at sea ; 
As an Indian woman goes to her own 

When the death-fire sets her free. 
Part of my heart has the tiger-pace — 
Wolf-wild, fox-far, it hunts thy face, 
To tear from the distance, to dare to wear 

Again on my breast a space. 

Part of my heart sits smiling, still. 

Within its sealed wall ; 
And counts the treasures in its till 

And the little memories all. 
That crowd with thy honey-lips, thine eyes, 
Till part of my heart in rapture cries, 
" Delay thy coming, love, yet a while. 
These I would realize." 
41 



42 



FLAMES 



Part of my heart, a joyous whole, 

(Though thou art all in all) 
Is fated for love as the lily's bowl 

Is fated for dews that fall. 
Part of my heart, dear love, shall stir 
To the sound of the foot of the wayfarer 
Who brings the ends of the earth in his eyes — 

Ah, love me and leave me, sir ! 

Part of my heart with curious mien, 

Slow turns away to its task; 
Let the wild thrush sing when its mate is seen, 

Let the wild dove brood in the dusk : 
Part of my heart is woman no more ; 
Part of my heart was human before 
The days of its longing and laughter and love, 

Ere it sat by the silent door. 

Part of my hearty part of my heart — 
'Tis strange that this should be ; 



FLAMES 43 



Petal on petal^ yet ever apart ^ 
And all of the heart of me ! 
So now I turn from the sealed door 
And do the task that I loved before^ 
And part of my heart is free ^ is free 
The part that is woman no more ! 



FLAME SONG 

I WAS a flame, I was a flame, 
That danced too hotly bright ; 

I hurt his heart, I seared his soul, 
I sealed up his sight. 

I was a flame, I was a flame — 

fire of me that raved 

And lapped at all bright food of fire, 
Anhungered and aggrieved. 

flame of me, O flame of me. 
That leaped into his skies ! 

Ahi ! Aghast at their great height 

1 entered Paradise. 

1 entered and my dancing ceased — 

(A flame might die to live !) 
44 



FLAMES 45 



Heaven, quench not utterly to ash 
For light I still would give. 

A flame might die as souls have died 
When they would live again ; 

A flame might live as souls have lived 
That on the heights were slain. 

A torch, a taper, O sweet Heaven, 

A little far-ofFmark, 
A gleam, a glow, I would be so. 

For comfort in his dark j 

A torch, a taper, O sweet Heaven, 

A star within his skies. 
Far from the flaming of my greed 

When thou unseal his eyes ! 



BALM 

Did you hurt me ? 
I do not know ; 
I heard a little song 
Come and go. 

Shall you hurt me ? 
You fear so ? 
Ah never doth music 
Cease to flow. 



46 



WILD LOVE 

Far, far, far, 
Wild love, bear me far ! 
Ranging storm shall be our steed, 
Where the lightnings lead. 

Hot and fleet and far. 
Past the utmost bar ! 
Thou nor I shall curb his speed : 
Distance is our need. 

Out and out — afar ! 
Fallen our futures are! 
Thou nor I shall give them heed - 
Chaos for our creed. 

Wilder and more far ! 
Wild love, touch thy star ! 
Fire into my lips then read . . . 
Ashes be thy meed. 
47 



TO ESCLARMONDO 

If thou couldst walk alone with thought, 

Alone within the day, 
Between thy soul and Heaven naught 

To shadow thy white way : 

If thou couldst walk alone with dreams. 
Without the cloud of me — 

My sudden storms, my fitful gleams, 
My poor reality : 

If thou couldst walk alone with light — 
Would then thine eyes see true? 

And were there thus a higher height 
For thee, a rapture new ? 

Cloud, I would melt in willing tears, 
Storm, I would gladly go 
48 



FLAMES 49 



Forth from thy peace through all the years, 
If thou wert safer so. 

But ah, who walks with thought alone? 

Who is there knows but light? 
And who with naught but dreams has grown 

To that desirdd height ? 



THE WAVE 

A WAVE runneth through my blood, 
Yea, a wild wave lifteth me 
From his breast, my deep, my sea. 
To his lips, O Height-of-flood ! 

A wave runneth through my tide ; 
Set free on a far-ofF main 
By the breath of a joy that is pain, 
A wave bounded forth and cried : 

" Let me break, let me break at last. 
Flame on a burning strand ! 
Foam on the lips of a land 
That hath not any past." 

I am lifted, O wild wave, 
I know thy voice in me, 
so 



FLAMES 



The compelling ecstasy — 

None shall stay me, none shall save, 

For I break, I break at last. 
Foam on his heart's wild strand ; 
Here lieth the flaming land 
That hath not any past ! 



I MOVE IN MISTS OF DREAM 

I MOVE in mists of dream, 
Dream-bonds are on my hands, 
Shadow-shod I seem. 
Enmeshed in silver strands 
Woven on the looms of dream, 
In dim dream-distant lands. 

Is there a day to come ? 
I would have no more days. 
Threshold of my heart's home 
Shall stay them on their ways ; 
Beneath my dream's white dome 
His weary head Time lays. 

Sower of the Seed, 

1 have no horizon 

Save where dream-rush and reed 
5^ 



FLAMES 53 



Wave o'er this memory won. 
The perished fragrant deed 
I harvest now, undone. 

Master of my delight, 
Lord of this memory. 
Thou camest in the night, 
Even now thou callest me. 
Even now I lift the light. 
Trembling in ecstasy. 

lips and hands of flame — 
Will the spell never end.? 
Life calls and without shame 
Life with my dream I blend. 

1 move in mists of dream. 
Dream-doves my ways attend. 



IRINA 

Because it is so cold and gray 

I dream wine and the south. 
Because I love no man on earth 

I dream of your warm mouth. 

How I would touch my glass to yours ! 

How golden it would ring ! 
Because of the bleakness and the gray 

I let it thrill and sting, 

The song that from your heart would fly 

When I had touched its core 
With warmth of mine and wine of mine — 

O your heart's waiting door! 

Because I love you not, nor yet 
Would feel your hand o'er mine, 

I dare this play in a drear day. 

With dream-warmth and dream-wine. 
54 



SIMONETTE 

Yesterweek I loved thee ; 
Yestermorn I rose, 
Said, " Take back thy token, 
Thy red ring unbroken, 
Now I would be free." 

I was free of loving — 
(World, O wondrous world!) 
But no woman knoweth 
Whence the mad wind bloweth. 
Ne'er should boast her free. 

Yesterweek I loved thee; 
Now I love again ! 
Life o' Love, how dare I ? 
Love o* life, what care I ? 
Pray, what meaneth free ? 
55 



56 FLAMES 



Freedom was a stranger 
Come to dance a round ; 
When I clasped him, turning, 
He was another burning 
Lover — like to thee ! 



LIFE OF LOVE 

I HAD to sit and watch it die, 

A little love that longed to live ; 

That had no right to live. 

Since all its ill-starred birth could give 

Was heritage of pain and sigh. 

Could I but save it, were there wine 

And food to offer : bread for love 

And wine for the heart of love. 

Some poison that jfine pulse might move. 

But wine ? There 's naught save blood of mine. 

My blood ! Then love, which of us dies ? 
My first strong bit of loving, O 
'Tis hard to see you go. 
To see the fire fade and so 
Myself to lean and close your eyes. 
57 



YEA AND NAY 

O THE nay that I would say thee, 

The red, the ringing nay, 
Knew I the way to sway thee 

To beg me yield a yea ! 

O the nay that I would say thee. 

The flaming flagrant nay ! 
For well, O well I weigh thee. 

Beneath this moon of May, 

And well I know to stay thee. 

From day to dreamy day, 
Were one way to betray thee 

And were one way to slay. 

'Neath hedgerows thou shouldst lay thee, 
Forever and ever stray ! 
58 



FLAMES 59 



O the nay that I must say thee, 
Beneath this moon of May ! 

O mad proud youth, I pray thee, 
Why dost thou still delay — 

Against thy will delay thee 
From day to dreamy day ? 

O the yea that I could say thee. 
The warm, the winged yea ! 

Nay, never will I betray thee — 
Go thou, go thou thy way. 



«*THIS IS MY LOVE FOR YOU" 

I HAVE brought the wine 
And the folded raiment fine, 
Pilgrim stafF and shoe — 
This is my love for you. 

I will smooth your bed, 
Lay away your coverlid, 
Sing the whole day through. 
This is my love for you. 

Mayhap in the night, 

When the dark beats back the light, 

I shall struggle too . . . 

This is my love for you. 

In your dream, once more. 
Will a star lead to my door ? 
To stars and dreams be true ! 
This is my love for you . . . 
60 



FAITHFULNESS 

This is my flitting heart. 
In a boundless world, apart, 
This is my heart, no less. 
All day the wild thing wingeth 
And singeth of faithfulness : 
This is my hearty 
Wouldst thou cage it? 
Then cage it with faithfulness. 

O this is my ranging heart. 
True love for its only chart, 
All paths it doth possess 
As ever wind-wide it wingeth, 
Still sure of thy dear caress. 
This is my hearty 
Wouldst thou cage it ? 
Then cage it with faithfulness. 



62 FLAMES 



O, a falcon fleet for a heart, 
For its leash thy taming art. 
Bearing thy bell and jess — 
When farthest it fleeth it bringeth 
Most praise to thy faithfulness. 

This is my hearty 

Thou hast caged it 
With freedom and faithfulness / 



A FAREWELL 

Thy breath upon my spirit 
Is more than I can bear. 
Thou seest me shrink before it, 
Knowing thee most fair, 
Yet — breathe not on my spirit, 
Nor touch not now my hair. 

Draw not thy web around me. 
Thy delicate desire. 
The scented mesh that bound me, 
Hath flamed, a wall of fire. 
To madden me, to wound me, 
To stifle and to tire. 

As avalanche, as thunder. 
It blasts me, yet not blind, 
I rise and rive asunder 
63 



64 FLAMES 



The magic chains — my mind, 
Knowing thee fair, Fair Wonder, 
Doth know thee still unkind. 

Yet ever subtle, fragrant, 
Thy beauty doth remain . . . 
Though wildly free, love's vagrant, 
I quit the courts of pain. 
Through some betrayal flagrant, 
I turn to thee again. 

O Torturer, deliver 
My life into my hands ! 
My heart is with the river. 
Flowing through many lands. 
It turns not back forever : 
Farewell, O golden sands. 



VON EWIGER LIEBE 

You say there is no love, my love, 

Unless it lasts for aye ? 
O folly, there are interludes 

Better than the play. 

You say lest it endure, sweet love. 

It is not love for aye ? 
O blind! Eternity can be 

All in one little day. 



65 



MAJESTIC HAWK 

Majestic hawk, we watched thee soar and 

circle in the sky, 
Thou and thy mate, he whom I love and I. 
We watched thee soar and mount and spire, 

high and more high. 

Majestic hawk, he whom I love sees further 

in heaven than I. 
He saw thee, far and free — lost, lost on 

high — 
When I saw only thy mate beating against 

the sky. 

Then the wild, wild wishes of our hearts, 
they sprang, they too must fly. 

And straight they flew till his was lost in the 
sky . . . 

But my wish was the mate of his wild wish 



on high. 



66 



SONG OF THE SUM OF ALL 

I HAVE loved many, the more and the ftw — 
I have loved many that I might love you. 

All of my life was but loving and proving, 
The near and the far, the constant, the roving, 

The sad and the joyous, the shadow, the part. 
With signs of their lacking marked down in 
my heart. 

For never the goal and the whole were for me ; 
They were handle and hint, they were crutch, 
they were key. 

They were bramble and bud but never the 

flower. 
They were dawn, they were dusk, nor ever 

noon hour. 

67 



68 FLAMES 



They were soil-of-Iife, spoil-of-life, symbol 

and clue, 
But the soul-of-life, whole-of-life waited for 

you; 

They were wave, they were tide, they were 

shade on the lea. 
But you are the earth and the sun and the sea. 



UENVOI 

Now all my songs are over. 

Arise and latch thy door 
And sing them to thy lover 

And say them o'er and o'er. 
Mayhap thou wilt discover 

That thou canst love him more. 

And when the charm is over, 
Arise, unlatch thy door. 

And fare forth from thy lover. 
Although it wound thee sore . . 

Mayhap he will discover 

He might have loved thee more. 



69 



MANY MEN 
To Nasidika 



To clothe thy life with brilliancy 

And honor is to give 

yoy to the Gods : they love to see 

How pleasantly men live ; 

They love the crowned and fragrant head 

But turn their face away 

From those who come ungarlanded. ... 

Michael Field. 



Z(7, to some '/ was given 
By lightest touch to invoke 
A music heard of Heaven^ 
Truths by angels spoke. 

Heat have they to inflame 
Worlds with their least fire. 
What of those who dream^ 
Unlit save for desire f 

Longing for their lute. 
Love alone for lamp : 
Hark — songs of the mute I 
See — wealth of a tramp ! 

O desire, my gift, 
O desire, my goad. 
Thou at last shalt lift 
This desire, my load. 
73 



THE LOVER OF THE LILY 

The lover of the lily, the lover of the rose, 
Came once unto my secret, my scented gar- 
den-close. 

I filled his hands with lilies, slender, per- 
fumed, rare; 

The lover of the lily hath white hands lily- 
fair. 

From garden unto garden he goeth and we 

give 
Into his hands red roses, white lilies while we 

live. 

I chid my hands : Nay, give not ! Save ye for 

one unfed. 
(For beauty of the lilies, it is the soul's fair 

bread.) 

75 



76 MANYMEN 

I chid my heart : Ah, give not ! Behold he 

surfeiteth. 
And some there be that hunger, even unto 

death. 

My lilies made me answer and my few roses 

frail : 
Bread of the soul, white Beauty, veiled Host 

and Holy Grail, 

Flower of the soul, white Beauty, wine of the 

soul are we. 
Alone to him who seeth our beauty, born of 

thee. 

For some there be that hunger — (white lilies 

bloom again), — 
And know not that they hunger, though they 

are blind with pain. 



MANY MEN -j-j 

But one there is that seeth, beside thy garden- 
close : 

The lover of the lily, the lover of the 
rose. 



LIRON TO LALAGE 

All of heaven was blue, 
Lalage, because of you ; 
What you saw I sought, 
Doom and dream forgot. 

O fair world ! 

Blue morn to me no beauty brings: 

Mine eyes see only inward things. 

Shrill sang each bird. 
Lalage, I heard, I heard. 
When your cry of glee 
Cut and quickened me ! 

O fair world! 

Tet not for me light song^ whirred wings 

Mine ears hear only inward things. 

78 



MANYMEN 79 

Lilies flung a snare : 
Lalage, I was aware ! 
Roses breathed through you, 
Rue you taught me too . . . 

O fair world ! 

No more for me earth'' s censer swings : 

Vm wooed again by inward things, 

I return to dream; 
Lalage, I leave the gleam. 
Lily, rue and rose — 
I am free of those. 

O fair world 

Of hints and tints and heart-burnings ! 

O lost and saved by inward things I 



LAURENCE HOPE 

I SHUT thy face away within thy book. 
I can no longer bear thy sombre eyes, 
Imperious, passionate, sad — so sad, so wise. 
Too many lives are living in thy look. 
Too many hands beneath those hands have 

shook. 
I cannot bear the fumes of pain that rise 
From thine old ardent Eastern memories : 
I shut thy face away within thy book. 

Would thus thine eyes might close. Too-liv- 
ing still, 
By temple, caravan and teak-forest, 
O Desert-Star, Aziza, Yasmini — 
Desire — thou burnest ever without rest, 
Though rest thou 'st sought with all thy 

weary will. 
Bidding the River bear thee out to sea. 
80 



A LAMENT OF YASMINI 

God made me in an idle hour, 
A chalice fit for wine alone, 
O would that he had made a flower, 
A wandering planet, or a stone. 

O would he had not pleasured him, 
Dallying, that day among the days. 
To mould the cup's curved perfect rim. 
That soon the red wine should upraise. 

Alas, wan in the waning light, 
The wine that to his gaze was given. ' 
The cup was full of tears. . . . That night 
God wept upon the throne of Heaven. 



8i 



HELEN 

I HAVE no heart for Heaven 
Since Helen is not there, 

I have come to long for Helen 
And for her golden hair. 

I must go search in Hades, 
And if that shadowy place 

Knoweth not Helen's music 
Nor holdeth Helen's face, 

I will lie undemurring 

Beneath the olive-tree, 
Assured at last that Helen 

Shareth the soil with me. 

For Agnes Baldwin 

who gave me a 

Greek lamp. 

82 



MAD MARY 

Dusk came out of the wood and found the 

croft where I lay. 
Lips as bright as the morning and eyes like 

the stars of night, 
I dreamed of the morn of the morrow and 

midnight's dark delight. 
Dusk covered my heart, all with her sleeve of 

gray. 

Dusk covered my lips : O morning veiled 

alway. 
Dusk dimmed mine eyes : now one are noon 

and night. 
Dusk entered my dream and dulled my dear 

delight. 
Dusk in my heart, dusk for my hope, over 

the hills I stray. 
83 



THE HEIR 

'T WAS a cold, cold day 

In a bleak little town 

By a barren bay 

Where the wind swept down. 

'T was drear and 't was lonely 

And I was the only 

Guest at the poor 

Little inn on the moor. 

'T was a long, long way 
From my high castle-home ; 
There was no one to say 
The road I had come. 
Nor why I sat lonely 
And silent, the only , 
Guest at the poor 
Little inn on the moor. 
84 



MANY MEN 85 

There was no one to say- 
How I drank, how I sighed, 
Far away, far away. 
From Power and from Pride. 
O, 't was good to be lonely 
And free — and the only 
Guest at the poor 
Little inn on the moor! 



THE STRANGER 

All through the village we are still ; 

We wait for him to pass. 
In the white villa on the hill 

They turn and turn the glass. 

He is a stranger — fair, they say, 
And young. The young should live! 

The beautiful, the strong, the gay 
Deep into life should dive 

And breast its waves and buoyant swim ! 

Alas, he drifts to port ; 
Another current carries him 

Beyond the billow-sport. 

Beyond the harbor, past the hill, 
Beneath the churchyard grass ... 

All through the village we are still; 
We wait for him to pass. 
86 



THE DREAM LEA 

We would go forth unto a land of dreams, 
For we are weary of the things of day. 
We would find meads that ne'er have been — 
Songs that shall never be, beside those streams 
We'd softly sing alway. 

There move and whirl and be at rest. The 

same 
And one these three will be. For we shall sign 
Our weariness away, to wreathe 
Forgotten flowers and wear an old strange 
name. 
Quaffing a stranger wine. 

There heavy arms lift lightly to a wind 
That binds a body swift and light as he ; 
There heavy heart allays its wound ; 
87 



88 MANYMEN 

There heavy head is crowned with dusk- 
flowers, twined 
In hair held cloudily. 

Sweet loves and sisters wait in this dim lea ; 
Shy creatures friend us on the faery way ; 
With sighs, enchanted lips unknown 
Kiss out the mark and lull the memory 
Of our far mortal day. 



POETS 

They had great wealth of golden dreams. 

We begged them of their store — 
The singing gods — for coin of dreams 

Is golden words' outpour. 

To one they gave of their largesse. 

O fair he spread his board ! 
O there I 've supped his cup to bless 

With many a laughing lord. 

Sure one lies buried 'neath his gift} 
From one they did withhold; 

And one sits doubting if to lift 
His single coin of gold. 

To me was sparely, sparely given 
And I spend freely — O ! 
89 



90 MANY MEN 

To buy me little clouds of heaven 
To curtain my window ; 

To fit a caravan so fleet 

'T will cross the desert skies, 

That I may dip my dancing feet 
In yestermorn's sunrise ! 



O WORLD, BE NOT SO FAIR 

From the German of Maria Jager 

O MOON, O hide thy golden light, 

night, be not so fair ; 

O ye dear stars, shine not so bright : 

1 would for sleep prepare. 
Mine eyes are closing wearily 

That watched the slow day's flight, 
And yet there is no rest for me 
In this enchanted night. 

O fellow-men, be not too good ! 

world, be not too fair ! 

Wake no new life-glow in my blood — 

1 would for sleep prepare. 

My day is dim ; there beckons clear 

A star of other air; 
And yet, and yet, my heart is here ! 

O world, be not so fair. 
91 



IN THE ROOM 
To O-Lu-Si San 



S^iTis JTiiel^ sans fiel^ 
Ala belle ame danse. 

Jules Laforgue. 



These are my moments. O I would 

Thou knewest the sisterhood. 

Child of their mood 

I dream and dance and sing and sigh^ 

While their feet flit by. 

I lift a white brow to their kiss^ 

Child of their bliss. 

I cry out quick beneath their bane^ 

Child of their pain. 

I drink unto the lees 

{And I would die to utter these /) 

Their passionate griefs and ecstasies. 



95 



UNANSWERED 

O I HAVE closed so many doors, 

O I have closed so many, many doors. 

But secret hands slide all the bolts 
And silent feet glide o'er my floors ; 
Eyes come betwixt mine and the sun — 
Who are the leaders of these strange revolts ? 

Behold, they are my Questions and they cry, 
" Unanswered I, unanswered I — and I — ! " 
Unanswered every one. 

Yet I have closed so many doors, 
So many, many doors. 



97 



MYSTERY 

I 

Blessed and Accursed, none knows where 

thou dost dwell, 
Nor if they live, who, winning to thy shrine, 
Cry on thy name and make thy secret sign, 
Find thee and see thee and still have thee well. 
None hears their word and there is none can 

tell. 
Even I who bring thee daily tears and wine, 
I have not found thee, nay, thou art not mine, 
Though I kneel oft at bidding of thy bell. 

Once I had touched and all but clasped thy 

hand ; 
Once I believed it was thy lips I kissed ; 
Thy mouth was mirage and thy feet were 

sand ! 
Yet will I run beside thee all day long, 
98 



IN THE ROOM 99 

Cloak me at noontide in thy silver mist, 
And weave thy vi^eb and sing all day thy 

song. 

II 
And they, even they, who 'neath the noonday 

sun 
Pluck the red fruit and laugh and slay the 

wheat 
And bind its gold and tread the grape and eat 
Their bread and say, " Now is our day well 

done"; 
Even they are acolytes of thee, who shun 
Thy name nor follow thy dusk-faring feet, 
Nor ever, O thou Awful and Most Sweet, 
Dreaming and singing to thy bosom run. 

Ay, thou dost weave them though they weave 

not thee. 
White and rose-red, with laughter, tears and 

sighs. 



loo IN THE ROOM 

They move within thee and they are not 

free, 
They wear thee though they tear thy veils 

impearled, 
And trample them. But I, more subtly 

wise, 
I dare thee, draw thee, trembling, round my 

world. 

Ill 

Then come unto the chamber of my heart. 
There thou shalt find thy doves and thou 

shalt find 
The flame, the fruit, the flagon, and shalt 

mind 
The curtained couch and thy still niche apart 
And all the holy silence of thy art ; 
And kneeling, captive, rapt, devout, resigned 
Unto thy service, so thou loose or bind. 
My heart, and evermore my kneeling heart. 



IN THE ROOM loi 

Then come unto the chamber of my soul. 
There is thy throne, majestic Mystery. 
There thy choirs chant thee and thy great 

bells toll 
Thee and thy ascending incense is the breath 
Of life, thy prayer the anguished ultimate 

cry — 
O Hid and Dread, O Door of Life and Death ! 



THE FLEEING FLAME 

I WOULD give lessons in rapture 
And teach you the scale of desire. 

Till the dream that you trace and would cap- 
ture 
Shall be as a flame of white fire 

To blind and elude till you languish 

And cry for cessation of pain, 
And cry for a truce to the anguish 

Of a dream that is restless and vain. 

And then I would touch you and teach you 

The sin of the sorrow of men 
Who desire without dream, I would reach you 

With lust of the lair and the den ; 

Till the bloom of your bright lips shall wither 
And you cry that desire should be still. 



IN THE ROOM 103 

And you pray me to lead your feet whither 
White peace hath uttered her will. 

Then will I reveal in my pity 

The peace that men have upon earth — 
Her they seek in the streets of the city, 

Desiring through forest and firth. 

Till you cry out and flout me, deriding 

The heart of her I call peace, 
Having learnt that no peace is abiding 

Till dream and desire shall cease ; 

Till you rise to follow your rapture — 
Pale dream and ruddy desire — 

Though you know that 't is never to capture 
The fleeing flame of white fire ! 



MOOD 

Were it melted into music 

Would a soul go pure of stain ? 
Voiced by viols should our weeping 

Sound a silver strain ? 
Bodied in a flute's outflowing 

Might a grief elude its pain, 
Fault and flaw and scar and blemish 

Healed in song again ? 

Nay, alas ! My soul sought music : 
The high flute sobbed out her pain, 

And the viols' dark despairing 
Was my soul's refrain. 



104 



HIDE ME FROM HATE 

So now, Calais, thou givest me choice. 

In thy soft voice, 
To go forth lonely unto despair — 

(My soul could never lie there !) — 
Or to hate thee well, to wait 

And wrong thee with cold hate. 

I have seen Hate; I know her hands 

That burn like fire-brands. 
I have seen Hate; I know her feet 

That lurk where murderers meet. 
I have seen Hate ; I know her brow 

Might be my bulwark now. 

Were there but two ways for my choice. 

As saith thy voice, 
I would go lonely unto despair ! 

(My soul could never lie there.) 

105 



io6 INTHEROOM 

I 'd clamor at her gate, 

Crying, " Hide me from Hate ! " 

I have seen Hate; I know her hands 
That burn like fire-brands. 

I have seen Hate ; I know her hair. 
Snare worse than all despair. 

I have seen Horror! By the dark gate 
I cry, " Hide me from Hate ! " 



A PRAYER TO AN OLD GOD 

To Vulcan s hut show me the way^ 

Unto his furnace red. 
Upon his anvil I would lay 

My heavy heart of lead. 

Vulcan, Vulcan, hast thou fire 

And will thy fire suflice 
To melt mine anger and mine ire, 

The iron and the ice ? 

And is thine arm strong as of old. 

If fire fail to break 
Stone and steel, seeking for gold, 

Fair gold for my soul's sake ? 

Vulcan, lame and terrible, 
Of metals such as these 

107 



io8 INTHEROOM 

A strong shield didst thou once weld well 
For kingly Achilles. 

Terrible and lame, a god, 

Driveth my desire. 
By Heaven's heights that he hath trod. 

Have pity on me, Sire ! 

Melt me. Master, mould me, wield 
Thy hammer, make me whole ! 

Make my heart into a shield 
For my faltering soul. 



lOLfi 

I LONG for white lilies, 
White roses and rest, 
White raiment and silence 
Like a dove's white breast. 

Thy faun came too near me, 
(Well loved I the dance). 
My garland he blighted 
With his ribald glance. 

Thy faun danced too wildly. 
His wreath was awry, 
His pipe was discordant. 
Too harsh was his cry. 

I yearn for white raiment : 
My garland so gay 
109 



no IN THE ROOM 

I 've plucked at in horror 
And flung far away. 

I long for white lilies, 
I ask to be still. 
O silence, his singing 
Come, cover and kill ! 



THE PENITENT 

I WILL come back and be a child 

And put away from me 
The daring and the dancing wild. 

The dreams that troubled thee. 

I will come back and softer sing 
And tell thee stories true, 

And make thee many a lovely thing 
From out our drouth and dew. 

But when thou sleepest I will run 
And dance upon the sward 

And tell the moon how I have won 
Thy praise for my reward ; 

And tell the moon how I must stay 
A child, and dream no more 



112 IN THE ROOM 

Such dreams as I have sought to say. 
That tempted me so sore : 

And tell the moon and tell the night 
How I have put from me — 

All day — until the dim twilight — 
The dreams that troubled thee. 



THE SORROWFUL 

I WAKENED when the dawn-white 
Was flooding mead and moor, 
I wakened with the bird-calls, 
A thrush beside my door. 

I wakened with the dawn-white, 
Yet sprang not from my bed. 
For the sin of all my sorrow 
Was heavy on my head. 

I could not go to greet her, 
The Fair, the Perfect One, 
For the sin of all my sorrow 
Was cloud against her sun : 

The stain of my great sadness, 
My grief heavy and gray. 
Yea, the sin of all my sorrow, 
It held me from the Day. 



WORLD-WEARY 

I WOULD follow the fading light 

To the silent shore of the sea, 
And there for a night and another night, 

None should come nigh to me. 

And if one came who would know my name, 

My wish would carry me far. 
To the heart of the coldest faintest flame 

Of the last and loneliest star. 

And there for a day and another day. 

My soul, wrapped in white fire 
To keep the questioning world away. 

Would drink of her desire. 

For she is fain of rest, her feet 
Move not to music or mirth ; 
114 



INTHEROOM 115 

Far solitude seemeth more sweet 
Than any joy of earth. . . . 

But O, I know, on another morn 
My soul will arise and say, 
" World, I desire thee, flower and thorn ! 
Show me the homeward way I " 



RENAISSANCE 

Inquisition came to me, 
Rack and screw and cell j 

I was living Renaissance, 
Spring it was as well. 

Inquisition came as friend : 
" Friend of mine, reveal 

Past and pathway, torch and tool, 
For my cross and seal." 

I had naught but my young joy. 

Dancing in my eyes. 
And my world-old true desire. 

Beating through my sighs. 

I had friendly hand for friend 
And a greeting rare; 
ii6 



IN THE ROOM 117 

For the rack I had no creed. 
For the screw no prayer. 

Inquisition read the doom 

Of my young delight — 
(Excommunicate of sin 

And the ancient blight !) — 

Cursed and went. . . . And I am young. 

And I have forgot. 
1 am living Renaissance ; 

Spring it is, I wot ! 



ABSENT 

I DID not know that I had lived 

The little tedious day, 
For I was sleeping till the noon 

Had chased the morn away, 

And then I rose and crept about. 

All in my robe of blue, 
But never heard how soft it trailed. 

Nor never felt its hue. 

Nor scarcely saw the purple grapes 

Upon the silver dish, 
But only stood and could not think 

And could not even wish. 

O not to know that I had lived — 
It was to lose the day ! 
ii8 



IN THE ROOM 119 

And in the loss to lie benumbed, 
To lose the loss that way, 

A curious anguish without pain, 

From which at last a Word, 
Born out of nowhere, brought me back — 

On bright wings, like a bird. 



FEAR-BRED 

I WOULD have loved to tell you true, 
O cruel lips, O cold blue eyes. 

I could not for my fear of you 
And so I told you lies. 

You were my little world. And then 

The great world came, with wider skies. 

Alas, fear-bred, I feared all men. 
And so I told them lies. 

I made a hedge about my heart, 
I made a high bright house of lies ; 

I kept my white soul there apart, 
Safe-shielded from their eyes. 

But well I wish one might come near. 
Whose eyes would look into mine eyes, 



IN THE ROOM 12 

And bid me lay aside my fear 
And lay aside my lies. 

For I would love to tell you true, 

O unknown lips, O wide blue skies ! 
I cannot for my fear of you, 
. And so I tell you lies. 



A LETTER TO A FRIEND 

My friend, my kind friend, 

I am writing you at the day's end, 

Out of my solitude. 

To-day I went up to the wood 

And at dawn I am going again, 

For I heard a cry there, as of one in pain. 

I heard a little shaken sob, 

A faint shivering thrilling throb, 

And I knew, I knew 't was a buried 

brook. 
Though I could not stop or look. 
So at dawn I will rise and go and find 
The brook. I will go with the thought of 

you in my mind. 

1 will part the violets, the wood's little 

daughters, 
I will lift the leaves and release the waters. 



IN THE ROOM 123 

I will lift the leaves and tear the old roots 

apart. 
As once you lifted dead leaves and old roots 

from my heart. 

For H. B. D. 



HEART'S HOLIDAY 

Without, a city's whirling dust, 

A city's alley-wall ; 
Without, a bleak pale strip of sky, 

Within, high festival. 

Without, no greeting between friends. 
From the hurrying crowd no smile. 

Within, my heart's slow pageant moves 
In glorious solemn file. 

There was no call for revel. Day, 
Who summons us each morn, 

Came forth in dreariest garb and blew 
No gala herald-horn. 

But slave of day I am not, nay, 
Her mistress still, I wield 

ii4 



IN THE ROOM 125 

The crystal scepter of my mood, 
Bearing my dream's white shield. 

Exultant, rapture-flooded, mad 

With mystic inner mirth, 
My heart holds her strange carnival 

Unseen of all the earth. 



O SLEEP 

Take me upon thy breast, 

O river of rest. 
Draw me down to thy side. 

Slow-moving tide. 
Carry out beyond reach 

Of song or of speech 
This body and soul forespent. 

To thy still continent. 
Where silence hath his home, 

Where I would come. 
Bear me now in thy deep 

Bosom, Sleep, 
O Sleep. 



126 



A SONG 

Now I will make me a song 
And make it sweet to the end. 
(O gray day, thou art long; 
Bitter the way thou dost wend.) 

O gray way, thou art long ; 
O Fate, where bideth my friend ? 
Now wind the wrong in a song 
And make it sweet to the end ! 

My slender hands, are ye strong ? 
The rod of Fate would ye bend ? 
Ye can make but a little song. 
So make it sweet to the end. 

O the rod, the lash and the thong ! 
'T is I that must bend, bend ! 
But O, I will make me a song, 
Silver-sweet to the end. 

127 



THE WORLD^S CHILD 
To Brunoddie 



The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too 
great to he told. 

William Butler Yeats. 



My thought was fain to fare 
Vague avenues of air 
And cloudways lone and wild^ 

Until it heard a crying child. 

Lo^ then it fled for balm and food^ 
For pillow-down and fuel-wood^ 
For lint to line a sleeping-nest^ 
For father-heart and mother-breast. 
It tore its dream to bandages^ 
It gave its hope the hurt to dress ^ 
And all the fair words that it knew^ 
To heal this child it gave them too. 

My thought was fain to fare 
Vague avenues of air 
And cloudways lone and wild^ 

Until it heard a crying child. 
131 



SICK-LEAVE 

I MUST take the road by the river 

Since you exile me again; 
I must take the road by the river — 

my wonderful river of men ! 

I will find the path to the mountain — 

(O mountain of mankind !) 
To shield me from the silence 

1 would ride in a calling wind 

That shall be as my calling comrades 
Who bear now my strength's arrears ; 

I must climb away to the sunrise, 
For I dream of their white careers. 

High in these valleys a lake lies, 

And high and more deep in my heart 
133 



134 THE WORLD'S CHILD 

Lies my love for the life of the living - 
O why must I ride apart ? 

I will take the road by the river 
Since you exile me again, 

But 't is only a sign forever 

Of my wonderful river of men. 



ALLEGRA AGONISTES 

A GLEAM of gold in gloom and gray, 
A call from out a fairer day. 
O pang at heart and ebbing blood ! 
(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood, 
Stern woman of the Brotherhood.) 

Clamor of golden tones and tunes, 
Hint of faint horns, breath of bassoons : 
They wound my soul again, I lie 
Face earthward in fresh agony. 
O give me joy before I die ! 

World, world, I could have danced for thee 
And I had tales and minstrelsy. 
Kept fairer I had been more good — 
(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood, 
Soul of the breadless Brotherhood.) 
135 



136 THE WORLD'S CHILD 

Some thou hast formed to play thy part, 
The bold, the cold, the hard of heart. 
Thy rue upon my lips, I toss ; 
Rose was my right. O world, the loss. 
When Greek limbs writhe upon the cross ! 



THE QUEST 

'Tis I went a-questing, 
Unhasting, unresting, 
To where the birds were nesting, 
Seeking of the Way. 

And O and O, the eagles. 

The orioles, the doves. 

They love, they hate, yet learn not 

From their red hates and loves. 

For far lies the heart's land. 
Her high-land, her holy-land, 
And far lies the soul's land. 
And far lies the Way. 

I listened to the lilies — 
They had no tale to tell ; 
137 



138 THE WORLD'S CHILD 

The little leaves, the stately sheaves, 
Were ignorant as vv^ell. 

And all through the tree-land, 
The forest-land, the free-land, 
And all along the sea-land. 
No one could say. 

The moon it had no meaning. 
The stars were sterile too. 
The vi^ill-less winds go wandering. 
They know not what they do. 

And though I searched the sear-land 
The desert-land, the drear-land. 
And passed unto the mere-land. 
My feet were astray. 

I came unto my brother : 
He cried aloud my name ! 



THE WORLD'S CHILD i 



39 



Across the dark that bound us 
He flashed his signal-flame. 

For he was the heart's-land, 
Her high-land, her holy-land, 
O he was the soul's land. 
And he was the Way! 



OF PRISONERS 

My heart is breaking. O why can I not break 

yours ? 
My heart is breaking because of prisoners. 
O the terrible walls of stone ! 
O the hours and the months and the days 
And Despair ! 

We laugh ; we go our ways, 
And they wait in their cells alone. 
The cells are of steel and stone. 
They sit and stare, 
They curse, they weep. 
And their souls die. 

(O ask not a soul to live without light !) 
And we go our ways and work and sleep 
And sing, and we see the sky 
And count it a little thing and cry 
" Keep them hid from our sight ! " 
140 



THE WORLD'S CHILD 141 

For we deem they have done us a wrong. 
For a wrong, O what is the price ? 
Alas, alas, what anguish will suffice ? 
And how long lasts the payment, how long ? 
O I dream at night of the iron doors 
And my heart is breaking. Why can I not 
break yours ? 



THE HALLS OF SHAME 

One whispered as we read the name, 
" O hasten, flee the Halls of Shame ! " 

But O, my bitter soul would know; 
It hath no faith in name or show. 

And so I climbed the gilded stair 

And clasped hot hands that met mine there 

And kissed pale lips I might have loved 
And read mad eyes, sad eyes, and proved 

That they who tread the Halls of Shame 
Are blackened, blackened by the name ; 

For O, my bitter soul stood last 
Within the shadow that it cast. 
14a 



TO CRUSH THE BUTTERFLY 

A FRAGILE flower the soul, 

A butterfly on wing; 
Yet daily earth's dark powers enroll 

To bruise the tender thing. 

O Hunger^ Hunger^ would 
The soul were fed of air ; 
But no^ it needs a body's food^ 
The soul so frail and fair. 

Behold, armies are drawn 

Out of the fertile lands ; 
They break their camps at break of dawn 

And battle on the sands. 

And souls are spilt like wine 

And none the reason knows. 

Save Greed who lurks where souls resign 
Their kinship to be foes. 

143- 



144 THE WORLD'S CHILD 

O Hunger^ Hunger^ would 
The soul were fed of air ; 
"Tis led unto the trough of Greed 
To feed the body there. 

Behold, navies are brought 

From out the hearts of hills ; 

Ploughing sea-furrows they have wrought 
The famine of our tills. 

Famine — and farmers gone 

Upon the barren sea ! 
Then souls are sold before the dawn 

Unto new slavery. 

O Hunger^ Hunger^ would 
The soul were fed of air ; 
But no, it needs a body's food. 
The soul so frail and fair. 



THE WORLD'S CHILD 145 

And lo, prisons and priests 

And olden creeds of man, 

Conspirators at separate feasts, 
They end what war began. 

And though great wealth belies 

The clamor of the poor, 
'T is hunger e'er doth neutralize 

The hope that 's at our door. 

O Hunger^ Hunger^ would 

The soul were thing of air ; 

For Greed hath fanned a bitter feud 

"Twixt soul and soul so fair. 

Behold, great kings break plight. 

Great teachers falsify : 
Terrific powers of earth unite 

To crush the butterfly ! 



A CHAMPION OF TO-DAY 

The heart of the city cries through me 
(Her heart that 's a million hearts of men), 
Of her woeful need I may not be still, 
Though I am torn by her terrible will. 
Burn with her burning, her waste fulfill, 
Worn with her malady. 

The mind of the city gropes in me, 
(Her mind that 's a million minds of men) 
And I strive alone in the market-place 
To find the meaning of each drawn face. 
The trend of her hope, through tears to trace 
(Her hope cries bitterly). 

And the soul of the city, aflame to be free, 
(Her soul that 's a million souls of men) 
Cries, " The god of gold asks a heavy toll ! " 
146 



THE WORLD'S CHILD 147 

And I cry, " Though gold be thy goad, O 

soul, 
O it is not a god and it is not the goal ! 
Heart 's joy thy goal must be." 



PATHFINDERS 

We are making a new trail. 
New heights we assail; 
No traveler e'er has tried 
This mountain-side. 

We are making a new trail : 
(Hark, hear the wind wail !) 
Nay, no leader he can be, 
A follower he. 

Nor can the stars tell 
If we go safe and well, 
Nor the trees nor the tall fern 
Where we should turn. 

Naught that the wise know 
Our pathway can show, 
148 



THE WORLD'S CHILD 149 

Nor what their gods write, 
Safety invite. 

We are making a new trail. 
Do we then fear to fail — 
Thou and I ? How may we know 
Which way to go ? 

Dream doth drive us and hot hope, 
Through the fearful mists we grope. 
And we mount, we mount, but O — 
No more we know. 



CHILD, CHILD 

Child, child, 

The city alleys reek ; 
By night-time and by daytime 

The passing engines shriek, 
And murky is the Maytime 

Where carriers hoot and cry, 
Yet here thou hast thy playtime 

And hast thy lullaby. 

Child, child. 

Men say and poets sing, 
"Thy hope of joy, O Woman, 
Lies in this single thing. 
Of life or love, let no man 

Tell thee ought else were best: 
Thy joy of joys, O Woman, 
Thy child upon thy breast." 
150 . 



THE WORLD'S CHILD 151 

Child, child, 

Alas, and if it be ? 
Why sing the joy of mothers 

And sing no song of thee ? 
Who clamors now for others, 

Rose-happed though they should lie, 
He has not seen thy brothers. 

Nor heard thy lullaby. 

Child, child. 

Some say thou 'rt doomed to fail ; 
They cry we do not need thee, 

So puny, piteous, pale. 
And staying not to feed thee 

They wait their darling's kiss. 
O lest they hear or heed thee 

Let them not boast their bliss ! 



O HUSH, MY HEART 

O HUSH, my heart, while I recall 

The rosy-footed years 
When I had no heart at all, 

Only quick smiles and tears. 
O sweet it was and safe it was 

And O I would I were 
Still running with white dreams that pass 

Like clouds across the air. 

O hush, my heart, while I recall 

The silent-sandaled days 
When I had no heart at all. 

Only my soul's white ways. 
O sweet it was and very strange 

To find a white soul so ; 
O would that I again might range, 

Heartless, her fields of snow. 
152 



THE WORLD'S CHILD 153 

O would I had no heart at all ! 

For O, the stormy hour 
When my hot heart rose to a call, 

Bearing a crimson flower. 
Alas, my soul's wide wanderings. 

My limitless desire ! 
Now all my dreams have heavy wings 

And hover round a fire. 

Now all my world is made of hands 

That cling to mine again. 
And I am bound with iron bands 

Of passion and of pain. 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

To Margarita Mystica 



Destroyer and preserver ; hear^ O hear ! 

Shelley. 



The wind hath been thy memory^ 

O mortal^ O man. 
Clad on with clay thou canC st^ hut he 

Naked hefore thee ran. 

The wind doth hold thy mystery. 

Even as thy soul^ even so^ 
Whither he listeth^ hloweth he^ 

And as thy soul^ doth go. 

The wind weaveth thy destiny, 

O lay down thy lyre ! 
Thou art the lyre. To play on thee 

He sweeps through fields of fire ! 



157 



This was the secret of my mind : 
That I was made Sister to the Wind. 

I seemed a woman in my ways ; 

1 sang for men's prai&e or dispraise ; 

I spun, I wove unto their will; 
Yet ever calling over the hill 

And through the forest, from the sea, 
I heard the voice of one more free, 

Of one heart-brother unto me. 



59 



i6o THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

II 

Bar the doors, he calls again. 
(Ye would hold my hands in vain.) 
Bar the doors, make fast the chain — 
He Is calling low. 

Bind me, but think not to still 
This wild heart or this wild will; 
Bind, if ye would keep me till 
He shall moan and go. 

Bring the lights; watch me askance; 
Bar the doors and bid me dance. 
Forward, backward, in a trance 
Swaying to and fro. 

All my days a trance I deem. 
All my dancing but a dream. 
Wildly, Wind, this heart redeem, 
That desires thee so ! 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND i6i 

Come within the unguarded night. 
Shake the earth with thy mad might, 
Stay the stars and quench their h'ght — 
Seize my hand and go! 



62 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

III 

What is the singing that I hear ? 

It is thy mother, child. 
O no, it is my Brother Wind, 

He sings more shrill and wild. 

What is the sobbing that I hear ? 

'T is for thy mother, child. 
O no, it is my Brother Wind, 

He weeps unreconciled. 

For now she sleeps, the sweet white flower. 
And happy still, and mild . . . 

My Brother Wind cries, cries for me. 
The lonely little child. 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 163 

IV 

MORTAL mother, 
Flower of earth, 

1 would that none other 
Had sung since my birth. 

I would I had heard not 
Hope, white Desire ; 
I would they had stirred not 
Me with white fire. 

I would that the Spirit 
Knew naught of my clay, 
Then might I inherit 
Thy beauty, thy way. 

Then might I bide me 
With thee in earth's breast ; 
From the wild wind hide me. 
And from Unrest. 



i64 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

V 

Mayhap I was not mothered 

Save in this flower-leaf flesh ; 

Thus strangely to be brothered — 

Caught in the mother-mesh 

From blue deep boundless seas of sky, 

Where winds float and fly. 

Mayhap I was not mothered 
Save in this flame-wrought clay ; 
Thus strangely to be gathered, 
Fruit of a wider day. 
And poured, an alien unseen wine, 
Within this cup of thine. 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 165 

VI 

Heaven, hadst thou but given a mother of 
minds, 

Of marvel, of mystery ! 
Of words of wonder and wandering winds, 

Of gloom, of grief, of glee ! 

Heaven, hadst thou but given a mother of mad 

Desire and madder gleams 
Of mad mad hopes ne'er to be had — 

A mother of these our dreams ! 

Heaven, hadst thou but given to this my soul, 

To song and my soul and me, 
A mother — so I be mothered whole. 

Even in mine ecstasy ! 

My lonely brother, my motherless brother. 

Far as a star hast thou sped. 
Nor know'st thou the tenderness of that 
mother. 

Nor where to lay thy head . . . 



i66 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

VII 

She made my body beautiful, 

She moulded me as fair 
As lilies by a woodland pool, 

She tressed my midnight hair. 

She bore me to a green hid vale 

And laid me in a grove 
Of oak and ash, 'mid aspens pale 

And lilies of her love. 

She kissed my wide and wondering eyes 

To make me wonder-blind. 
She kissed my lips — O wild and wise — 

To save me from the wind. 

She kissed my hair, she kissed my heart. 
She kissed my hands, she laid 

Swift kisses on my feet that start 
So swift and unafraid. 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 167 

She kissed me, O she kissed me, O 

She tried to make me hers, 
To hush me, hap me, hold me so, 

From the White Whisperers. 

And I would be hers only now 
But that the wild wind came 

And kissed me once upon the brow — 
O hope, desire and dream ! 



68 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

VIII 

But all the songs I bring 

Are secret save to thee. 

Men must not learn this thing — 

To wander fitfully, 

To rise and beat the air 
And dream in vain of flight. 
The world is very fair 
And sleep is sweet by night. 

And they must reap and sow 
And sleep again at last, 
Untroubled by the flow 
Of wings upon the blast, 

Untroubled by the toll 
Of startled bells, the cries, 
Untroubled by my soul 
That storms at last the skies. 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 169 

IX 

I LAY in the meadow 
And prayed as I lay 
To the lord of the shadow, 
The lord of fair day, 

The god of white water 
And the dark god of earth, 
For I am their daughter 
And one with my birth 

Rose fear of their power, 
So fearful I pray 
To the gray gods that lower 
And the god of fair day. 

And then my soul wakened 
And spake to its kind. 
(Swift beauty betokened 
My brother, the Wind.) 



JO THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

And I lay in the meadow 
And laughed as I lay, 
For he rent the cloud-shadow 
From the face of fair day ! 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 171 



" Wind-maid, O Wind-maid, 
Waken and hearken — 
Sore am I afraid. 

They have sworn that nine lashes 
Be laid on my back; 
The sour dame had liefer 
I laid on the rack. 
They have sworn bread and water 
Should punish me well 
And the black priest has hinted 
O' the hot fires of Hell. 
I cried, ' 'T was the wind 
Tore down from the line 
The laces so filmy, 
The linen so fine ! ' 
I cried, ' 'T was the wind 
Ran through the hedge-gap 
With christening-robe 
And kerchief and cap. 



172 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

'T was the wind, 't was the wind ! ' 

Sore was I afraid. 

I said not 't was thou, 

O mad moody Wind-maid." 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 173 

XI 

Hast thou never heard him, the Harper of 

Heaven, 
Harping and singing and sighing at even ? 
Hast thou never heard him singing 'neath a 

star ? 
Singing and sighing and striving afar ? 

I have heard him weeping when all sleeping 

men 
Heard not and stirred not and cared not and 

then 
I have heard him calling till I must rise and 

The calling, the hailing, the wailing hurt me 
so. 



174 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

XII 

Have pity on all things, 
Even on the w^ind that sings. 

Often he feels he is alone, 
Hearing his sister moan. 

Have pity on the bright restless gay 
Leaves ; they grow weary, even they. 

Have pity on the little waves 
That are born in their graves. 

Have pity on all souls. 

Even those who wear aureoles 

And shine and stir and hear the wind — 
Even they are bound and blind. 

(They too who, hearing, shake with fear, 
Knowing not the voice they hearj 

They too who turn away 
And stop their ears with clay.) 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 175 

XIII 

The wind died 

In the dead of the night. 

He faltered, sighed. 

And ceased outright. 

I move, I live — 

(I live, they say) — 

gray, gray life 
With the wind away. 

The wind died. 

1 took my glass 
To the fireside. 
Gray breath did pass 
Across its gray : 

I lived, I knew. 

O would I were dead, 

Or would the wind blew ! 

The wind died 
And Song died too. 



176 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

Fear, with his bride. 
Gray Terror, grew. 
I live, I move, 
Like a living thing. 
But what is the worth 
Of such living ? 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 177 

XIV 

O WIND, O wind, from where thou art. 

From where the aspen shakes, 
Come lullaby my mortal heart, 

My mortal heart that breaks. 

O wind, from where pale grasses bend, 

From where flower-petals fall, 
Come rock to rest the dreams that end. 

Though they clamor still and call. 

O come from where white lilies lie 

With silent hearts unstirred. 
Thy lullaby, thy chant, thy cry. 

Might bring their secret word. 

Hush my hurt heart, quench the hot flame, 

O heal the anguish of 
A strangled hope, a dying dream, 

A bleeding mortal love. 



178 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

XV 

It was still on the mountain 

When thy storm swept the world. 

Fearfully still in the forest where we slept. 

Then were white arrows hurled 

Upon the air, 

And in the hushed hollow where 

I had drunk of earth's crystalline flowing 

fountain, 
A torrent lived and leapt ! 

Thy thunders called thy lightnings, thou didst 

send 
Flame ! 1 

O Wind, thy terrible tribes came ! 
Thy scourge fell. 
Thy lash was laid 
On earth that loved thee well. 
O Wind, wild Wind, was it the end ? 
My soul laughed ! Lo, I was unafraid ! 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 179 

Then send if thou must thy storm to break 
this bitter peace — 

(O how shall I find release ?) 

Sound if thou must thy battle-cry, 

Despoil me of my sheaves. 

Cleanse!! Purify!! 

Break the dead branches, fling forth the dead 
leaves ! 

Scatter the ashes of all the wayside fires ! 

Scatter the ashes of the old hopes, the old de- 
sires I 



i8o THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

XVI 

I AM dreaming of my homing 
Though earth calls home to me; 

I am yearning for the turning 
Of the wind that sets me free. 

For my far home is Forever; 

How should I house with clay 
Whom the wailing winds are waiting 

In their tower of Day-on-Day ? 

Faithful lovers of the fireside 
Lay delaying hands on me, 

But my feet would run the heavens 
And my soul stir up the sea ! 

And my heart — it is a wind-harp, 
Music, music, o'er and through ! 

Sorry mortals of a moment. 
How can I give it you ? 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND i8 

my frail heart is a wind-harp, 
But your pulses cannot know, 

Nor your failing breath endure 
Its mighty music-flow. 

Each in your day you '11 hear it, 
(In my boundless day of birth) ; 

1 '11 go shrilling past your windows — 

You will shrink back to the hearth. 



i82 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

XVII 

Wings, wings, 
Wide and wild and gray! 
Come to me, comfort me, carry me away ! 
Where the hooded Calms foregather 
Hinder not nor hold me, rather 
Bend me, send me, a billow out to sea : 
I have a heart that longs to be free ! 

Wings, wings, 
I hear ye sweep and sway ! 
Find me, wind me, waft me away ! 
That I share the scarlet splendid 
Path of Day, with Breadth be blended. 
Take me, break me, spill the soul from me ! 
I have a heart that longs to be free. 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 183 

XVIII 

When I lay within the mire — 
(O my soul, white flower of fire) — 
When I lay there, broken, stained. 
No one knew the wind had waned. 

Rise, O Wind, I crave thee ! Come 
From Heaven's high lit halls, thy home ! 
Sandal thee and stalk with keen 
Sword in thy strong hand unseen ! 

Rise, O Wind, I crave thee ! Call, 
Loud through Heaven's high echoing hall ! 
See, I rise from out the mire ! 
(O my soul, white flower of fire). 



i84 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

XIX 

To be bound so long and now to be free ! 

(Brother, Brother, hearest thou me ?) 
The cord is loosened, the arrow sped, 
The golden bowl broken, the wild bird fled, 

O wild eyrie, to thee ! 

The clasp of the clay was sealed by a spell ; 

(Brother, Brother, hearest thou well ?) 
But a chain for my mind no magic could 

find 
And the wings of my soul were the wings of 
the wind ; 
Brother, they bore me to thee ! 

And now my body lies white on the wave ; 

(O ivory beauty no wind-wish could save ;) 
O come, let us sing ere it sinks in the deep. 
And pray the sea-sisters to lull it to sleep 

For -wakeful it wandered with me. 



THE SISTER OF THE WIND 185 

I would pray the sea-sisters remember its 
grace, 
As I remember its burdening embrace. 
Hot tears and wild laughter, dark pain and 

mad play — 
'T was my friend and my foe when together 
we lay ! 
What dreams it hath dreamed with me ! 

Then reach me and teach me thy wind-speech 
again — 
Brother, Brother, I 've lived among men ! 
Prove me the range of the sea and the sky, 
The leagues that I long for, the heights I 
would try. 
Restore and reveal them to me. 

Fori prayed but one prayer — incarnate of air, 
With Space and with Song and with Silence 
to lair. 



i86 THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

To flee, shod with joy, past the uttermost bars 
Of night's height, on and on up the stair of 
the stars, 
Forever and ever with thee! 



THE END 



If I could take fire and the light of all the lands 

And fling it backward over my hook ; 

If I could take the flowers of this Spring and 

wreathe them into many-coloured bands 
And turning backward^ garland my hook ; 
If I could take gems from the dark mountain and 

shells from the shining sands 
And kneeling^ backward^ deck my hook ; 
If I could take Beauty herself and naked Truth 

and white Humility by their strong hands 
And lead them backward into my hook ; 
If I could sing this one song so sweetly (here at the 

end as it stands) 
That the sound should float backward through my 

book ; 

But no^ my songs — Strangers — you are naught 

but a spent wave, 
O you flung yourselves high^ but for me you have 

fallen in your grave ! 



Tour souls not the whitest light of this morn can 

glorify. 
Nor this eve's clearest cry. 

Let me go avjay. I would drink of deeper wells. 

All around me are fire and flowers and gems and 
shining shells. 

Mayhap I will seek again to sing what mine eyes 
see. 

O my wayward soul — lead me to Beauty her- 
self to Truth and to Humility ! 



^e tout dieu s^envole^ shot cree ; 
^ue toute creation perisse^ sitot creee ; 
^ue Vancien dieu offre sa creation au jeune 
dieu afin qu^elle soit hroyee par lui ; 
^ue tout dieu soit dieu du moment. 

Marcel Schwob. 



89 



CONTENTS 

Out of my hours of idleness 



ON THE HILL 




Measure me not by thy sorronxf s rod 


3 


Of Songs 


5 


Rebirth 


7 


Invocation 


lO 


" And I 'm but a flame and a shadow" 


12 


A Prayer 


13 


Mist-Mad 


14 


The Sun- Worshiper 


i8 


Malerude 


20 


Web on the Loom 


23 


The Green Canoe 


25 


Island Song 


27 


On the Day the Sun lies dead 


29 


At Sunset 


31 


The Silver River 


32 


FLAMES 




/ nvalled me yestere^ven nvith indifference 


35 


The Dancer 


37 


Love is a Terrible Thing 


39 



192 CONTENTS 

The Heart-Song of Jacinta 41 

Flame Song 44 

Balm 46 

Wild Love 47 

To Esclarmondo 48 

The Wave 50 

I Move in Mists of Dream 52 

Irina 54 

Simonette 55 

Life of Love [ 57 

Yea and Nay 58 

"This is my love for you'' 60 

Faithfulness 6 1 

A Farewell 63 

Von Ewiger Liebe j. 65 

Majestic Hawk 66 

Song of the Sum of All 67 

L' Envoi (^ 69 

MANY MEN 

Zo, to some ''tnvas given 73 

The Lover of the Lily | 7 5 

Liron to Lalage 78 

Laurence Hope 80 

A Lament of Yasmini 8 1 

Helen 82 

Mad Mary 83 

The Heir 84 



CONTENTS 193 

The Stranger 86 

The Dream Lea 87 

Poets 89 

O World, be not so Fair 91 

IN THE ROOM 

These are my moments. O I 'would 95 

Unanswered 97 

Mystery, 1, 11, iii 98 

The Fleeing Flame 102 



Mood 



lole 



104 



Hide Me from Hate 105 

A Prayer to an Old God 107 



109 



The Penitent 1 1 1 

The Sorrowful 113 

World- Weary 114 

Renaissance 116 

Absent 118 

Fear-Bred 120 

A Letter to a Friend 122 

Heart's Holiday 124 

O Sleep 126 

A Song 127 

THE WORLD'S CHILD 

My thought nvas fain to fare 131 

Sick-Leave 133 



194 CONTENTS 

Allegra Agonistes 135 

The Quest 137 
Of Prisoners ,140 

The Halls of Shame 14a 

To Crush the Butterfly 143 

A Champion of To-Day 146 

Pathfinders 148 

Child, Child 156 

O Hush, my Heart 152 

THE SISTER OF THE WIND 

The nvind hath been thy memory 157 

I. This was the secret of my mind 159 

II. Bar the doors, he calls again 160 

III. What is the singing that I hear 16a 

IV. O mortal mother 163 
V. Mayhap I was not mothered 164 

VI. Heaven, hadst thou but given a mother 

of minds 165 

VII. She made my body beautiful 166 

VIII. But all the songs I bring i68 

IX. I lay in the meadow 169 

X. "Wind-maid, O Wind-maid " 171 

XI. Hast thou never heard him, the Harper 

of Heaven 173 

XII. Have pity on all things 174 

XIII. The wind died 175 

XIV. O wind, O wind, from where thou art 177 



CONTENTS 195 

XV. It was still on the mountain 178 

XVI, I am dreaming of my homing 180 

XVII. Wings, wings 182 

XVIII. When I lay within the mire 183 

XIX. To be bound so long and now to be free 184 

If I could take jire and the light of all the lands 187 



CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
U . S . A 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: iVIagnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Oct. 2009 

PieservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATIOil 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724) 779-2111 



i 




.1 



